A Happy Life
by CleopatraVII
Summary: Mrs. Lovett tries to reach out to Sweeney Todd, and he shows a sudden interest. Not very romantic yet; more chapters to follow, and probably a rating change. Please review.
1. Odd Encounter

A/N: Not my characters, so don't sue me.

A Happy Life

"What's on your mind, love?" Mrs. Lovett asked.

Sweeney Todd gave her no response. He merely continued to sit, slouching, at the dusty table in her bakery. Eyes unblinking, he stared coldly at a chip in the table.

"Mr. T? You alright?" she ventured again. Toby made a derisive noise from the corner, as if to say "why bother", and she sent him a warning glance. As much as she liked having the boy around, she was not fond of his attitude concerning her beloved barber. Sweeney would come around eventually; all of the killing had to be purging his soul and clearing his mind somehow.

The object of her attention continued to sit blandly.

Tutting, Mrs. Lovett walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. At the contact, his eyes flicked towards her, then returned to their original study of the chipped table.

After a few minutes, he shifted slightly, a silent signal that he wished her to stop touching him.

Sighing, she stepped back. Sweeney stood, and slowly returned to his barbershop.

"Apparently he's had enough socializing for the day, mum." Toby said, his voice tinged with dislike.

"You hush. I'll not have you mocking that poor man while you're under my roof." she snapped. "Go along now. Busy yourself."

--

Mrs. Lovett gingerly opened the door to the barbershop. Night had fallen, and the customers had come and gone. There had been no sign of Sweeney since earlier; he had remained in his barbershop, killing the customers that had visited.

She stepped inside.

As usual, his quarters were dark and depressing. He hadn't bothered to light a candle, so the only source of light in the room came from the bloated moon's light, which glittered coldly on his treasured razors. An unexpected chill raced down Mrs. Lovett's spine as she glanced at these razors, but she refused to let herself wonder what the cause of the chill was.

"Sweeney?" She quietly inquired, looking around.

There was a hint of movement as Sweeney titled his head slightly in her direction. He sat in the chair that held the center of the room, his pale visage turned to the moon as he lost himself in his undeniably dark thoughts. The ever-present razor glistened from its resting spot on his left leg.

_He looks so beautiful in the moonlight_, Mrs. Lovett thought. For a moment she contented herself with just taking in the sight before her. She longed to rush over to him, throw her arms around him, and kiss him under the moonlight which graced his sunken features. _If only…_

Sighing, she approached him. "Mr. T, you missed dinner. And lunch. Also, breakfast. You've got to eat something, love; you're practically a gho-" Before she could finish, his hand locked tightly around her wrist.

Heart stopping, lips still parted in surprise, she looked at him, and for the first time, he truly seemed to be looking back.

Eyes glittering, he looked up at her. He took the razor in his free hand, and stood up. She tried to back away, but his grasp on her wrist was tight. A small smile toyed at his lips, and he pushed her to the nearest wall.

"Sweeney!" she gasped, but could not continue. Fright and longing had silenced her, and she could only stand and wait to see what he would do.

To her surprise, he leaned in towards her, bringing his pale face close to her own. He smelled of shaving cream and sweat, but the smell was tantalizing to her senses. This was the closest the barber had ever willingly gotten to her, and, despite the possibility of her impending demise, Mrs. Lovett couldn't help but to enjoy it. His wild hair stood on end, the white stripe lit to an almost blinding color in the moonlight. Sweeney's dark eyes remained locked on her own.

He leaned closer still, and his breath danced on her ear as he whispered, "What do you want?"

_You._ She was unable to say anything, senses clouded with his scent and the surprise of this sudden attention. She longed to put her arms around his neck, but the man had her pinned against the cold wall.

Now his lips brushed her ear, sending shivers coursing through her frame. "I am not a happy man, Mrs. Lovett. What makes you think that we could have a joyous life?" His body was pressed against her, and a soft whimper escaped her.

The door banged open, and Sweeney's frame stiffened.

"MRS. LOVETT!" Toby screamed. "DROP THE RAZOR, YOU BASTARD!"

A/N: More to come. Comments?


	2. Confusion

A/N: Not my characters. Thanks to all who commented/read the previous chapter.

A Happy Life

Chapter Two: Confusion

_The little nuisance_, Sweeney thought, stepping slowly away from Mrs. Lovett. True, he didn't know what had come over him… All he had really wanted was just to see the wild haired woman falter beneath his stare, to reveal the loathing he knew she must feel. _No one could care for me_, he thought bitterly, _especially if I cannot bring myself to care for my own self_.

"DROP IT! DROP IT!" Toby continued to yell.

Sweeney turned to him, and saw that Toby held a fire poker in his hands, and had it raised menacingly. "You're being overly dramatic, young Toby." He said, his voice dangerous. "Mrs. Lovett and I were having a chat."

Toby's eyes darted from the cold man to the flushed woman. "Having a 'chat', eh? What about? Did she need a shave?"

"Now, Toby," Mrs. Lovett began, sounding profoundly out of breath, "you know how much Mr. T likes to keep his razors on hand. He meant no harm." She spared a glance to the barber, searching for confirmation, but he seemed to have withdrawn into himself again.

Still, Toby held the fire poker up, though he seemed to be losing his nerve.

Firmly, she told him, "Now. Stop being a silly lad and run along. And put that thing back by the fire!"

Toby sent her a meaningful look, then slowly turned to leave.

As soon as he had shut the door behind him, Mrs. Lovett turned to Sweeney.

Once again, he was staring out the windows to the luminescent moon. His eyes were black pools, reflecting the light, but no longer glittering as they had when he approached her.

"Mr. T?" she inquired.

No response from the pale man.

Clearing her throat, the lady repeated herself. "Mr. T? Are you alright? What was that abou-"

"Get out."

Taken aback, Mrs. Lovett stared at him. "Wh… What?"

He turned to look at her, and the coldness in his expression was all she needed to see. Whatever had possessed him earlier had clearly vacated. She left in a flurry of skirts and hair, slamming the door behind her.

_Sweeney Todd, you are still a foolish barber._

Sweeney frowned at the moon. Certainly he found Mrs. Lovett attractive – all the time in prison couldn't beat out an appreciation for ladies - but even the attraction was distant. He simply had trouble feeling anything anymore, except for an intense self-loathing.

He wished she would just leave him alone. Sweeney felt that he did not deserve the attention of anyone. He was, after all, a fool who had failed to kill the judge when given a chance. Before the barber attained his revenge, there was no room in his life for anything else.

Over the time he had spent in the barbershop, he had managed to convince himself that Mrs. Lovett's advances towards him were inspired by pity. Surely, if confronted, she would relent, and reveal her feelings towards him to be identical to his own self-concerning feelings. He simply could not bring himself to respond to her; the effort it would take merely for it to end in certain disappointment was too high of a price to pay.

Going over to his modest bed, the man laid down for the night.

Soon he was tossing and turning, images of the flush of Mrs. Lovett's skin plaguing him. _Why would she be so intent on my happiness. Doesn't the woman realize that there is no happiness in my life? That all happiness vanished from it 15 years ago?_

In his mind's eye, Mrs. Lovett's lips were parted in surprise.

_Go away, Mrs. Lovett. There is nothing for you in me._

Her body was firm against his.

_There is nothing in me. Don't waste your time._

Slowly, as he had learned to do during his 15 year stint in prison, Sweeney Todd shut everything out. The images of the woman faded, as did his confusing emotions. He was as cold as his dear razors.

Rolling over, Sweeney picked up a razor, and examined it. A sense of calm came over him, and he finally was able to sleep, razor clutched tightly in hand.

--

Downstairs, Toby was staring at Mrs. Lovett as she wiped down a table.

"What?!" she finally snapped, faltering under his unblinking scrutiny. "I don't have to explain anything to you. Go to bed."

"I'm not tired." he replied sullenly. He continued to stare at her, willing her to tell him what had happened moments before.

"Then just go!"

Toby looked hurt, but made no move to leave. "Why do you put up with him?! He's no good, Mrs. Lovett, no good at all!"

Mrs. Lovett slammed her hands on the table. "Enough! I've told you before, Toby, I won't have you talking about Mr. Todd that way." At that, she fled the room, escaping from Toby's uncomprehending eyes.

She threw herself onto her bed, burying her face in her pillows. Her stomach was roiling with emotion, and she gasped for breath. Mr. Todd's glittering eyes haunted her thoughts, and, as she was taken by a fitful sleep, his eyes presided over her dreams.

--

A/N: Please review.


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